R.I.P., My Love

Let us be apart then like the panoptical chambers in ICpatient X and patient Y, our names magic markered hurriedly on cardboardand taped pell-mell to the sliding glass doors, "Mary", "Donald", "Tory";an indication that our presence there would prove beyond temporary, like snow flurry.Our health might be regained if aggressive medical action were taken, or despitethese best efforts, lost like missing children in the brambles of poor fortune. The suffering of another's I can only envision through the mimesis of my own,the alarming monitor next door in lieu of a ...